


Such a Beautiful Day

by Shuufleur



Series: Trope Bingo Fills [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Post-Season/Series 07 Finale, Sam Winchester-centric, Suicidal Thoughts, Trope Bingo Round 9, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 06:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12550948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shuufleur/pseuds/Shuufleur
Summary: Some choices are easier to make than others.





	1. Then

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the **Free Space** square with the trope _24 hours to live_ of my Trope Bingo card round 9.
> 
> Originally, I started writing it for round 8 but I failed. So here it is. 
> 
> This is depressing. I'm sorry. Don't hate me.

> _ I would rather die a meaningful death than to live a meaningless life -  _ Corazon Aquino

 

**25 hours earlier...**

Sam gasped and fell to his knees. Vision greying on the edges, he swore and willed himself to stand. His whole body was throbbing from pain. It felt like something was pulling, pulling, pulling inside him, tearing him inside out. Sam let his head down and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath trying to will the dizziness and nausea away.

Passing a shaking hand on hand, he really hoped this worked. This had been his last resort. If this couldn’t save Dean, it was over. 

A sob almost broke free. 

If this didn’t work, he would have done this for nothing. He would have sacrificed himself for lies. 

Just as this thought passed through his mind, the wind picked up and the air crackled in front of him. Sam looked up and saw the air blurring, as if it was too hot. Sam was surely losing it. With a grimace, he stood as he watched the  _ portal _ blink and yawn, widening every seconds. Sam only had a glimpse of a gray sky and a forest before two people were thrown across and the portal closed as suddenly as it had opened.

Sam held his breath, waiting. It was his plot twist, his revelation. Did he succeed? Did he bring Dean back? Sam took a step forward. He couldn’t see if this was Dean, it was too dark. For the life of him, he couldn’t… 

One of the two shadows started to move.  It stood and turned around slowly, the darkness following the movement like skin. Sam couldn’t clearly see him but he knew it wasn’t Dean. His brother never had a beard and Sam didn’t recognize him. The man saw him and stayed on him as if he was studying him, cataloging every details. He seemed dangerous. The hunter gripped the gun he had in his waistband and waited. Waited for something to happen. Anything.

And then, finally, the other person groaned and muttered. He sat, massaging his head. Relief washed over Sam. This was Dean, he could recognize the muttering everywhere.

He felt so nauseous.

“Dean?” Sam called, a bit hesitant. 

His brother stilled and slowly turned his head toward him.    


“Sam…” He started to say, surprised. “What… what happened?” 

Sam marginally relaxed his stance, taking a step forward but Dean stayed where he was. Worse, he seemed to get closer to the other man, keeping a safe distance between he and his brother.

Sam frowned. He didn’t like this. 

“Where- Are you in Purgatory?” Dean asked then, worry clouding his voice.

_ No, Dean, no, you’re home! You’re not in Purgatory anymore, I saved you,  _ Sam furiously thought. But he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t open his mouth and enunciate the reassuring words.

“No, brother. We’re not. Look.” The man said pointing at the dusty road, pointing at the motel they could see farther away, pointing at the stars, numerous in the clear night sky.

Sam looked too, despite himself. He followed the man’s finger, wondering what he saw to differentiate Purgatory and Earth. He hated it. He hated it when he saw the wonder, the relief that came on his brother’s face and not being the one to bring it. He hated it when a man he didn’t know, a man who came from Purgatory, could be more reassuring than seeing, hearing Sam. How? How could he be more reassuring than Sam, his own brother, who did everything he could to save him? How could he call him  _ brother _ ? 

Sam closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. It was the spell, it took so much out of him, he didn’t know what to think, or feel. He shouldn’t be angry at Dean. He didn’t know what Sam had done to accomplish this. And he would never know until his dying breath.

Oh, the irony, he thought, smiling bitterly.

_ Come on, Sam, those are your last hours with your brother. Don’t you want to make most of it? _

He did. He wanted to be with his brother before the end.

Sam tried to look happy. Dean didn’t need to know what was looming over his head. Apparently Dean thought Sam was  _ safe _ as he walked up to him to hug him. Sam gripped his brother tightly, burying his head in his neck. 

“I’m so glad you’re back,” he whispered. Dean answered by tightening the hug before breaking it. 

“Come on,” Dean said, his voice casual but his eyes were on the verge of tears. “Let’s celebrate that with burgers and beers.”

Sam nodded and smiled a bit out of it. His legs gave out from under him. Dean shouted, worried, gripping his arms but Sam fell to the ground, his head falling farther and farther away from him. 

Was is time already? 

*****

Sam woke up shivering. He was too warm and too cold. His body felt sore all over and nausea was stronger than before. 

Someone switched on the light and Sam groaned, hiding his face inside the sheets, wet with sweat. 

“Please, not the light, not the light,” he begged, squeezing his eyes closed. 

“Alright, alright, shh, Sam, it’s ok, I’ll remove the light, don’t worry.” Dean’s voice said and Sam couldn’t remember why it was so strange to hear his brother, to feel his presence next to him.

The light diminished, so Sam opened his eyes. It hurt less. He looked at Dean with a blurry vision. His brother had a glass in his hand as he walked to him.

“What time is it?” he asked slurring a bit.

“5.” Dean answered, “Come on, little brother, drink this, you’ll feel better.” 

Dean leaned to him and touched his face; his cheek, his forehead, then it snaked under his neck. His hand was cool against his skin. It seemed to calm a little bit the raging heat he was feeling. 

Dean helped him up and held the glass in front of his brother. Sam raised his hand to take the glass but his hand was shaking too much. He couldn’t grab it, let alone drink it so Dean took it back, put the rim of the glass on Sam’s lips, tilting it enough to let the liquid run down. 

Sam made a face at the medicine taste but his brother threw him a concerned look, so he drunk everything diligently. He grimaced when the last drop of the glass content fell in his throat. His brother, watching him intently, put the glass on the night table and sat on the bed. Sam recognized the expression his brother had. 

“Sam, we need to talk.” 

And there it was. 

“On what?”

Playing innocent, Dean would never believe it.

“How you saved me, us.”

Ding, ding, ding: Dean just won the jackpot.

Something heavy dropped in Sam’s stomach. He expected the question, but it still took him by surprise. He had thought that Dean would have waited a little more. He couldn’t tell Dean the truth. He had to lie. 

Swallowing, Sam lied, “I read, a lot, about Purgatory. I found out there were entries to Purgatory. I used a spell to locate one and another spell to open it.” 

Dean’s eyes darkened. 

Shit. Did he guess that wasn’t really realistic?

“How did you pull us? Another spell, I bet.” 

Dean almost looked furious. Sam tried to deflect. 

“Yes, a harmless spell just to attract you to the right place.” 

This wasn’t how Sam imagined their reunion.

“And where is that spell?” Dean asked lowly, on edge.

Sam hesitated. 

“Sam, tell me where are the spells you found?” He asked. 

“Dean…”

“Please, Sam, tell me. Now.”

_ Quick! _

“I...” Sam paused, not knowing what to say. Dean looked impatient. 

“In a book I found at Bobby’s. I don’t have it here,” he blurted out, finally deciding what to say. 

Dean looked at him silently, face blank. Sam didn’t like that. The silence was making him uncomfortable. 

He could feel Dean’s judgement sticking to his skin so he continued, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing… I’m not in danger, if that’s what you were asking.” He smiled weakly, patting Dean’s hand on the bed. 

His brother’s eyes didn’t stray from him. 

“Sam--”

“I’m… tired, Dean,” Sam interrupted. “I’d like to go back to sleep. Please.” 

Sam wasn’t ready for the confrontation, he was… he really was tired. 

This time, though, his brother didn’t say anything. 

He nodded. “I’ll wake you up for breakfast anyway. You need to eat, you’re too thin.” he said, eyeing his brother disapprovingly. 

He got up, switching off the light before going to the door. 

“Sam… feel better.” 

Sam nodded automatically, not really listening. The hunter closed the door and Sam let out a sigh. 

Well, that was pretty ok. Sam knew he only delayed the fight that would surely come. But he didn’t have to worry about it yet. He relaxed, and as soon as he closed his eyes, he drifted away.

*****

When Sam woke up the next time, he still felt bone tired but better, in a way. The motel room was empty as Dean wasn’t here. His watch read 8. Sixteen hours left, then. 

Sam closed his eyes, his throat closing him. He didn’t know if he co- 

The door opened suddenly, startling the hunter. It wasn’t Dean, but the other man.

Sam groped under his pillow, expecting to find his gun. He swore internally when he didn’t find it. He hadn’t had time to stash it yesterday. He was defenseless with a man (creature?) from Purgatory. 

The other man hadn’t moved since he came inside. 

Sam sat up and said gruffly, “Could you at least close the door.” 

The man kept his eyes on Sam when he did close the door after a few seconds. Sam got out of bed, tense. Unsteady, he felt a little dizzy but he didn’t want to sit down. He didn’t want to show weakness in front of this man.

“So…” Sam started with a smirk, trying to sound like himself. “Who are you?”

He wasn’t sure it worked. 

The man stared at him silently, then he slowly walked toward him and stopped just a few inches from Sam. He was shorter than the hunter but Sam didn’t know if the chill he felt was from whatever he had or what the man projected. 

_ Predator. _

“Let’s talk,” the man murmured.

Sam frowned. 

“Why?” He asked, snorting. “Maybe you could start with your name.”

The man observed him calmly. It unnerved Sam. 

Finally, he said, “You can call me Benny.”

He gestured toward the table and the chairs. Sam raised his eyebrows, not wanting to follow his lead.

“Let’s sit down. We’re going to be more comfortable to talk,” rumbled the man, already walking to one of the chairs. He sat down and watched expectantly Sam as he followed suit.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Sam asked. “Something on your mind?” 

He smiled not very nicely. 

Benny answered after a beat, observing him.

“I should be the one to ask you the question. There’s something you’re hiding, and I want to know what it is.”

Sam laughed bitterly. 

“Right, because you’re truthful about who you are? In any case, it’s between Dean and me.”

Benny advanced on Sam, and for a moment he thought he was going to rip his throat off even with the table between them. 

“It’s my business when I know it’ll destroy your brother. I didn’t protect him in Purgatory for you to send him to a bad place.”

“I’m not gonna send him to a bad place! He’s my brother, I wouldn’t hurt him.”

“I don’t know if you’re stupid or not but that spell didn’t come free. Magic is never free. You had to give something up in return. I don’t know what it is, but this? This will destroy your brother.”

Sam gulped, throat suddenly closing. He didn’t want to face it before. He tried to focus on the good part, he saved his brother. Nothing else counted for him. 

Benny was still looking at him, calmly. 

“I can’t.” Sam choked. “I…”

“Remember, whatever happens, I’ll be there for your brother. I’ll be there when the consequences of your actions unravel.” 

Benny looked at him one last time before standing up and going to the bathroom. It was so sudden Sam almost flinched. When the bathroom door closed, Sam didn’t feel like staying inside with this  _ man.  _

Sam stood and walked to the door. He hesitated, weighing if he should be armed. With a shrug, he decided it didn’t matter: he was was going to die anyway. 

Sam stepped outside and let a shuddering sigh out and looked up at the clouded sky. He stayed outside until he couldn’t stand the cold anymore. 

He felt worse than before if it were possible.

Benny sat on one of the chairs, eyes closed and seemingly sleeping. Somehow, Sam knew he was being watched. Sam went to his bed and put on one of his warmer clothes but he was still cold. He rubbed his hands together, and thought maybe coffee would help, but he would have to wait for Dean to come back. 

An hour later, Dean came back with breakfast. When he stepped inside, his brother beamed at Sam, seeing him up and walking. The younger hunter almost felt bad for what was going to happen. 

_ Come on, Sam, don’t chicken out. Dean would have done the same thing. _

“How you’re feeling?” Dean asked. 

“Better,” Sam smiled even though it wasn’t true.

“Good. Now, you’re gonna eat and we can… I don’t know, get back to our lives.” 

Dean looked at him with such hope that Sam felt tears welling up. He blinked rapidly as Dean was frowning. 

“I’d like that Dean.” Sam answered in the end. 

Dean relaxed slightly and smiled. It was small thing, but the young hunter was reassured Dean believed him. 

His brother put the paper bag on the small table beside the window and started to display everything he took. Which was a lot. 

“Did you rob a diner, Dean?” Sam couldn’t help but ask cheekily. 

His brother rolled his eyes and started to enumerate the food and drinks. 

“There’s coffee, though for you Sam, you’ll get an OJ.” he said with a smug smile. 

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Took pancakes, bacon and eggs, and a pie. Wait, I almost forgot,” he said slapping slightly his forehead, “But I guess you have must already know by now. Sam, this is Benny. Benny, this is Sam, my brother.”

Benny stood and went to Dean, nodding. 

“Yeah, we introduced ourselves this morning.” 

He threw a glance at Sam before putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Sam bristled internally. He hated that Benny could touch his brother so freely. 

He was jealous, so what? He briefly closed his eyes. He shouldn’t think like that. He also shouldn’t waste time on this Benny. Even if he was from Purgatory ( _also known as the_ _monsters’ heaven_ ), even if Sam didn’t trust him, he had his brother for a limited time, he had to make most of it. 

“Yeah, we did.”

Dean frowned, sensing that something was wrong but the younger man didn’t let him time to puzzle out what. 

“I’m starving, Dean,” Sam said with a slight pout. Dean always had a soft spot for a Sammy in distress.

It worked. Dean looked like a proud parent, showing all the food with his open arms.

Sam almost felt guilty for manipulating Dean to distract him. It didn’t last long though. Dean pushed Sam to sit down at the table, before serving breakfast. Sam felt tears prickling behind his eyelids and he had to swallow down a sob. 

All of this made him emotional. He really missed this. He hadn’t realized how much he missed Dean taking of him.

His brother didn’t seem to notice Sam’s mood who tried to hide it, but Benny was observing him keenly. He knows, Sam realized, he knows what’s going to happen.

When Dean finished putting everything on the table, Sam took the fork and knife and started to cut the pancake. Dean beamed at him, and started to eat with gusto.

Sam nibbled on the piece he took, feeling his stomach hadn’t settled yet. He wasn’t sure he could handle eating anything right now. And it seemed that Benny wasn’t eating either but Dean’s concern was solely focused on Sam. 

He stored that information for later. Maybe he could research- 

His train of thoughts stopped abruptly. Well, that was ludicrous. Sam wouldn’t survive the night, what was the point?

“Are you ok, Sam?” Dean asked. 

Sam blinked, feeling a bit sluggish. 

“Sure, I’m…”

He worked his jaw without saying anything. Dean furrowed his brow with worry. He stood to join Sam and put a hand on his forehead. He swore. 

“Sammy, you’re warm. Why didn’t you say so?”

Dean grabbed his shoulders just as Sam felt saliva flooding his mouth. 

Uh, oh. 

“Dean, let me go.” 

“What?” his brother said confused before Sam pushed him out of the way to go to the bathroom. He knelt down and vomited inside the toilets. His ears were buzzing, he faintly heard Dean’s concerned voice behind him. When Sam emptied his stomach, he dry heaved until he couldn’t get his breath back. 

“Sam, Sam, kiddo, answer me?” 

Sam tried to nod but he felt too weak. He gulped, and grimaced at the bitter taste. His strength left him suddenly. He stumbled against the wall, his whole body shaking. His teeth started to chatter as Dean knelt in front of him. His brother put his hand on Sam’s forehead. 

“Sammy, you’re burning up!” 

Sam watched as his brother stood to take a towel and pass it under water. The cool cloth felt like a blessing on Sam’s head. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

Sam nodded, and tried to get up but his legs didn’t respond. Dean grunted under his weight and called for Benny’s help. 

“Help me get him on the bed. We’re gonna break the fever.”

“Sure, brother.” 

Benny went on the opposite side of Dean, and passed Sam’s arm around his shoulders. The younger man  felt his strength and looked at him. Benny returned the gaze for a second, before they started moving toward the bed. There was something definitively different about the man his brother brought with him. 

They let Sam slowly fall on the bed and arranged his limbs so that he was comfortable. Dean looked at him, searching his face for something. He frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He raised his hand and removed a strand of Sam’s hair which was in front of his eyes. 

“Benny, can you bring the cold towel?”

Benny came back a few seconds later with the towel. 

“Thanks.”

Sam was exhausted, and cold. His eyelids were slowly closing.

“Tell me the truth, Sam. Is this about the spell?”

“I… Dean…”

“No, no more lies, Sam. This is… the is serious.”

Sam tried to smile but he wasn’t sure he succeeded since Dean’s expression darkened. 

“Imma just gonna go to sleep, and I’ll be fine. You take care o’ me. Like a’ways.”

Dean’s mouth twisted. 

“Yeah, like always.”

Sam closed his eyes.

*

The sound of the car made him smile. He forgot how long it has been since he could feel so light. Being in the Impala, although it didn’t always meant good things, was always a good first step. Especially knowing that  _ Dean  _ was there. 

Sam opened tentatively his eyes, meeting the upholstery of the driver’s seat. Sam was almost folded in two on the backseat, his legs nearly spilling over the seat. Everything was silent, except for Dean humming a song. Something like AC/DC or Led Zeppelin. Maybe it was Frank Zappa. Sam wasn’t sure. His brain was fuzzy. At least, he didn’t feel cold anymore, just numb all over. 

“Dean.” someone said, and Sam’s eyes snapped to the passenger’s seat. Benny didn’t even look at him. Sam felt the car slow down and park. Dean got out of the car and opened the door to get to Sam. 

“Hey, Sammy, drink this.” 

Dean showed him a bottle of water. He helped him sit and drink. The younger man felt silly being so pampered by his big brother but he didn’t have the energy to complain. He wasn’t even sure he was against it. Sam knew it was his last hours with his brother. If it meant Dean mother henning him, then so be it. 

“Good,” Dean said when Sam drank enough of water. “You hungry? I got sandwiches?” 

Sam shook his head. He didn’t like eating right now. 

“What about fruits? I know you like that, you freak of nature.” 

Sam chuckled weakly. 

“It’s ok, Dean. I don’t… I’m not hungry. It’ll come later.”

Dean studied him a few more seconds before agreeing. 

“If you’re sure. Ask Benny if you want anything.” 

Sam smiled blandly.

“I will.”

With a satisfied nod, Dean closed the door and came back to this seat. He threw the bottle of water at Benny who caught it easily. 

“Alright, let’s go!”

Dean seemed a little more cheerful. He put on the radio and geared up. Sam looked through the window and wondered where they were on the road.

“Where are we going?”

“Bobby’s,” Dean answered. “Since you couldn’t tell me about that spell of yours, I assume your sickness or whatever you have is caused by it.” 

Sam met Dean’s eyes through the rearview mirror. He hoped Dean couldn’t see he was hiding something. But his brother didn’t look long, his eyes focused back on the road.

“How long I’ve been asleep?”

He needed to know how long he still had to live.

“Hm, about 4 hours.” 

10 hours left then.

“Thanks Dean.”

Sam let a shuddering breath and looked out of the window. He hoped the trip was going to go smoothly.

However, it didn’t happen. The car made him even sicker, and he had bouts of vomiting throughout the next hour. It worried Dean so much, he didn’t put the radio back on. As they drove, Sam became even more silent. He couldn’t really catch his breath with the dry-heaving and headaches he started to feel. The whole trip felt long and tense, it was a torture. 

It came to a point where Sam just wanted it over. He didn’t care to keep up appearances. He didn’t have the energy to pretend he was going to be fine anymore. It made his brother more worried, and more than that, it made him desperate. He started to drive faster, as if arriving at Bobby’s sooner meant there was a solution. Maybe Sam should just admit everything to Dean. Admit there wasn’t a cure, that he was going to die, and that Sam lied to him one last time. But something stopped him as he gathered the strength to admit everything. 

Selfishly, Sam didn’t want his last moments to be smeared by his lies. He wanted to be at peace. 

Dean didn’t notice Sam’s internal dilemma. But Benny seemed to get suspicious about something. Sam could feel his eyes like a laser beam on his head. He decided to ignore the other man. If Benny wanted to say something, Sam wasn’t going to stop him. He sighed and burrowed himself against the door, forehead resting on the window. 

Sam got lost in thought as he watched the scenery passed in front of his eyes. Hopefully, he won’t have to throw up again.

*****

Sam startled awake as someone pounded on the window. Dean looked at him perplexed. He sat up and squinted at Dean. The sun dipped down behind Dean, enveloping him in a warm light. It accented his pallor and tiredness. Sam looked around him and saw Benny wasn’t in the car anymore. He sat up and opened the door. 

“Hey, Dean,” he said, his voice scratchy from sleep. “We’re here long?” 

“No. How you feeling?” Dean asked, frowning.

_ Crappy.  _

_ I feel like I’m dying. _

Sam smiled weakly and got out the of the passenger seat. He winced at his sore muscles. He was too tall to sleep in the Impala any more.

“Sam?”

Sam blinked and looked back at his brother. He seemed a little annoyed. Sam scoffed internally. His superpower was being able to annoy his brother even in his last moments.

Careful, Sam thought about his lies and said:

“I’m… fine. Not great, but I’m sure I’ll get better.”

Dean wasn’t convinced. His brother could see it by the way he pressed his lips together. But he let it go, in the end, which surprised Sam.

“Ok, sure. Hm. I’ll… buy food.” Dean said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Why don’t you stay here while I do that? Benny should come back soon.”

“I can come with you.” Sam asked hopeful. 

Dean shook his head.

“Nah, Sammy, stay here, you still feel shaky to me.”

Sam opened his mouth but closed it. His brother’s worry seemed to have come back with force.

“Ok. Ok, then I’d like…”

“I know your order, kiddo.” 

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t a kid anymore.

His brother extended his hand, showing him the keys of the car. Sam took them after a hesitant second. His brother winked and turned towards the shop. Sam sighed and leaned on the car when he felt his legs shaking again. He inhaled and exhaled but he still felt nauseous. Someone came beside him. Benny’s face came up in front of his eyes, and Sam couldn’t stop himself from releasing a sigh of relief. Were it anyone else, or anything else, Sam would have been too slow to do anything.    


“Hey, Benny. You’ve got… blood?” Sam’s eyes snapped at Benny’s finger when he removed the trickle of blood around his mouth. The man smiled, and suddenly Sam’s mind could only think  _ predator monster killer.  _ Benny wasn’t  _ human _ and he was with his brother. He was dying and Dean was left with a creature.

“Don’t worry about your brother,” Benny said as if he had heard Sam’s thoughts. “He knows what I am. I didn’t lie to him. Not like you’re doing right now.”

“Shut your mouth,” Sam growled. “This is none of your business.”

Benny’s face darkened, and got closer to Sam. In the back of his mind, Sam felt fear fueling his adrenaline. Benny was dangerous. 

“Now, listen to me. Like I told you before, your secret is going to destroy your brother and I know you won’t be there to make it all better.”

“What?”

“I know you’re dying Sam. It’s gonna crush Dean. I know it, and you do too.”

Short winded, Sam took a step away from Benny.

“Don’t tell him.” Sam begged. “Please.”

He couldn’t get his breath back. There was a weight on his chest, squeezing his lungs tight, so tightly.

“Sam?” 

Benny extended a hand toward him but Sam stumbled further back. He tried to grab onto the car but his fingers didn’t have any purchase on the sleek car body. Benny was right there when he fell, preventing him from smashing his head on the ground. 

“Sam!” 

Dean’s voice rang and Sam heard his feet running on the ground. It sounded like a stamped in his head. Benny’s hands tightened. His own blood batting at his temples became too much for him. He squeezed his eyes shut to will it all away.

He could only hear his ragged breath coming in and out of his mouth. Silence blessedly fell around him. 

Time passed, Sam didn’t know how long.

“Sammy?”

When he reopened his eyes, he sat on the ground with Dean kneeling in front of him. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah.”

“You feel fok going into the car?” Dean asked with a small encouraging smile.

“Sure,” Sam said in a sigh.

“Let’s go.”

Dean helped him get up to sit down on the passenger seat. Benny was already sitting at the front. He turned around and gave him a bottle of water and a sandwich. 

“You might want to eat and drink, if you’re able. That’s probably why you fainted in the first place.”

Sam swallowed whatever scathing answer he wanted to say and took the offered items. 

“Thanks Benny.”

The man smiled tightly and looked back at the windshield. 

Dean sat behind the wheel, started up the car and drove out of the parking lot. They drove for quite some time. Sam couldn’t keep track of it. He kept dozing off, Benny’s insistent gaze waking him up from time to time.

When the board with Singer’s Salvage finally became visible from the road, Dean looked at Sam through the rearview mirror for a brief moment. His eyes were crinkling with happiness, and Sam mused that it was the first time since he came back that Dean seemed really happy. Sam couldn’t help but answer with a smile of his own. 

At least, his last few hours would be spent in a home he liked. 

Dean and Benny took the groceries they bought and put it all away in the kitchen. Sam hobbled to the sofa, bone tired. He let himself fall on the soft mattress and groaned. 

“Sammy, before sleeping, tell me where you took your spell? I can look for it while you nap. I’ll wake you up when I find it.” 

Dean looked at his brother and Sam watched him through a blurry vision. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the exhaustion or actual tears threatening to fall down. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s on the desk. The one with the black cover.” Sam lied, hoping Dean wouldn’t see through it.

His brother nodded and went to sit down at the desk. 

“Alright, sleep now kiddo. I’ll take care of everything now.” 

Dean smiled and opened the book, focusing entirely on his reading. Sam’s stomach twisted painfully with guilt, but he stopped himself from telling the truth. If Dean knew now, he was sure his brother would hate him. He’d just had to keep quiet until his time was up. 

He had saved Dean, he reminded himself, it was a worthy sacrifice.

Sam felt eyes on him and met Benny’s. The younger man was the first to look away. He willed himself to sleep. Maybe, maybe it would all over when he woke up.

_ If he woke up. _

Someone was shaking his shoulder quite violently. When Sam opened his eyes, he saw Dean’s frustrated face above him. 

“Come on kiddo, I need a break from reading all that stupid stuff.” 

Sam nodded distractedly. He sat up and passed a hand through his hair. He felt weird. Sore. 

“Hey,” Dean said softly. He knelt in front of Sam and looked at him directly in the eyes. Sam felt a little ill at ease under his brother gaze. He looked serious, with an edge of worry.

“Sam, I couldn’t find anything. Are you sure the spell book you used was here?”    


Dean’s face was neutral. He looked steady and confident. Sam gulped and for a second, he was on the verge of admitting everything, just like Benny suggested. He was going to do it. He opened his mouth when the door slammed, cutting himself. Dean let a frustrated sound and rose up. Benny appeared in the living room and looked at them both, inquisitive. A heavy silence fell and Sam didn’t know what was going to happen. Benny and Dean stared at each other and it felt like they had an entire conversation without talking. 

Irritation and jealousy started to rise within Sam but he deflated. What was the point? He only had a few hours to live. Finally, whatever conversation they were having ended when Dean sighed and told them he was going to buy dinner. Bobby’s house didn’t have anything to feed three grown men. 

Well, just one since Dean would be the only one to eat.

Once they were alone, Benny entered the living room calmly. Sam tensed. He didn’t like that. He knew Benny was going tell him off. Again. 

“You’ve been asleep for about two hours, and during those two hours, Dean didn’t stop looking through all the books he could understand,” Benny said, gesturing to the books thrown askew on the desk, some opened, others with a papier stuck between two pages. “He’s starting to doubt your story, but even then, he continues to look for a cure because he wants to believe he can save you. But he can’t, can he?” 

Sam looked at him and said nothing. He didn’t want to give Benny the satisfaction of being right. The man smiled, huffing a little. 

“When he told me about you, I didn’t know what to expect but it’s certainly wasn’t that.”

Sam clenched his jaw. 

“I mean, he told me so many stories about you,” Benny continued, raising his hands to encompass Sam. “How you were brave, how he trusted you with his life, how you beat the devil and lived to tell the tale.”

Benny laughed a little, his face becoming deadly serious. 

“It’s funny because right about now, you only look like a coward to me.”

Sam pressed his lips together, trying to stem the flow of anger growing inside him. What right did he have to judge him? None. He didn’t know Sam, he only knew what Dean told him and he knew that it was skewered. Because whatever his brother might have said, he stopped trusting Sam a long time ago. He might trust him with his life, but he didn’t trust Sam to make his own choices. 

He wondered if that that’s the reason why he cast the spell. So that he could choose. Right at the end, he chose, and Dean will have to accept it, some way or another. 

“Thanks for the advice Benny.”

Carefully, Sam stood from the sofa with the help of the coffee table. 

“Sam.” Benny said warningly. “You have to tell him.” 

Sam had his back turned to Benny, so he smiled. 

“I will, I promise. I will tell him.”

“Before it’s too late.” 

Sam didn’t answer right away. He turned towards Benny, and said, almost giddy in his despair, “It’s already too late.” 

Benny’s face fell. Sam slowly climbed the staircase, his hand gripping tightly the railing. He arrived on the second floor and went to Bobby’s old room. When he opened the door, the dust suddenly hit him, making him sneeze several times. Why did he come here? Right, he wanted to get away from Benny. He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. He smiled when he saw the frame laid face down. 

With a trembling hand, he grabbed it and turned it around to look at it. 

There was Dean, about 10 years old, sporting one of Bobby’s cap, beside him, sitting on a chair, was Bobby. He had one hand on Dean’s shoulder. His other hand was busy trying to keep a little Sam steady on his lap. Sam didn’t remember when this was taken, but looking at their faces on the picture, it was so obvious they were happy. So happy. 

His eyes started to fill up with tears and he shook his head. Not now, he still had something to do. One last thing for Dean. He closed the drawer and went back to the hallway. Sam was satisfied to see that Benny didn’t follow him. Instead of going back in the living room, Sam went to the room he and his brother always shared when they were visiting Bobby. 

Just as he thought, Dean had put all their stuff there while Sam had been sleeping. He went to his duffel bag and rummaged through it to find his notebook. Once he recovered the object, he took a pen and sat on the bed. He then swung his legs on the bed once he kicked off his shoes, and let his back rest on the pillow he put against the wall. 

Benny was right. As much as Sam wanted to bury his head in the sand, Dean would have to live with his actions. He might not understand him, he might even despise him, but it was important that he knew, even if it was already too late. Benny’s idea to tell Dean the truth wasn’t that bad, and there was one way for Sam to do that. He looked down at the notebook in his hands. Maybe, if he left a note, something for Dean to read, then maybe it would hurt less? Maybe it would feel less like a betrayal? An abandonment?

Sam smiled bitterly. He didn’t believe his own bullshit either. 

He opened the notebook, smoothed out the pages and grabbed the pen. He put it on the paper, and waited. 

His hands were slightly shaking, and the blank page seemed accusing. He took a deep breath and started to write. He frowned, not satisfied of what he had written. He tore the page, and started again. This time, it was right. He knew exactly what to say.

_ Dean, _

_ You must be pissed, hurt, and confused. I know you don’t understand, and I know you might never understand what I did or why I did it...  _

*

Dean came back with food. Just like the previous times, Sam could barely eat and Benny didn’t eat at all. The man had disappeared earlier once Sam had finished to write the letter. When he came back, he looked better, he had gained color. Dean ate with gusto, all the while saying how he was going to research the spell. 

Sam smiled and nodded until he looked at the clock and realized he only had two hours left. 

With a heavy heart, Sam thought of the letter, of death, of fear. Dying was an easy choice for Sam, but it didn’t mean he didn’t feel anything. 

“Sam? You ok?” 

He looked at Dean, and said, “Yes, Dean, I’m just tired.”

His brother nodded, as if it made sense. And, Sam supposed, it made sense. He was sick, he had fainted several times, slept so many hours. Too many.

“Sure, go. Get a good night's sleep.” 

Oh, Dean. Sam swallowed down his saliva with difficulty. He rose from his chair, took a couple steps towards the hallway before going back to take his brother into arms. 

For a second, Dean seemed surprised but he quickly returned the hug, squeezing hard. 

“Thank you, Dean, for being there.” Sam whispered in his brother’s ear.

“Always,” Dean replied, his voice a little choked up.

Sam broke the hug and went out of the kitchen. He knew Dean wouldn’t go to sleep until late, and Sam hoped he wouldn’t come before his time was up.

Sam walked back to the stairs, knowing it would be the last time he would see the house. He looked inside the living room, remembering all the times he and Dean were here, helping Bobby. He looked back at the kitchen, and saw Dean relaxed, a beer in his hand. Hopeful. 

Sam inhaled and climbed the stairs, his hand brushing against the old wallpaper, hitting parts where it was loose. He went to his room, took out the letter from his notebook and put it on the nightstand. 

He washed, dressed for the night and went under the covers.

He looked at the ceiling, old and cracked in some areas. This house has seen a lot of things, supernatural, humans. It has seen John, Sam and Dean. Bobby and his wife. 

Sometime later (a few minutes, or more, an hour maybe?), someone knocked. Sam tensed. 

“Sammy?” 

Shit, Dean. What did he want? Did Benny tell him about what was going to happen?

“You still awake?” 

Dean fell silent and waited. Sam looked at the shadows the hallway light threw under the door. Heart hammering, Sam waited. His brother will leave, and he’ll be alone. Alone, and dying. Trying to get over the fear clawing his way up in his throat, Sam answered before Dean could leave.

“Yeah, Dean.” 

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

He quickly hid the letter under the covers when the door opened. Sam squinted at the too bright light. 

“Sorry,” he brother said before half closing the door. “Wanted to ask you something.”

Wary, Sam ventured, “Yeah?”

“What do you want for breakfast?”

Sam snorted at the unexpected question. 

“You don’t want any of that rabbit food, right?” Dean asked hopeful, and amused.

“No, fine, I’ll get… pie.”

Sam felt Dean beam at him. 

“Great choice, Sammy.”

Dean squeezed his shoulder and left him alone. Sam took the letter and put it back on the nightstand.

Time passed, and Sam started to think that this was not the first time this house witnessed pain and death. Sam wagered this was the first time it was so peaceful. 

Looking at the cracked ceiling, Sam thought he’d rather sit by the window. He got out of the bed, slowly pulled a chair to the window. He opened the windows, and the panes, letting the fresh air stroke him. He shivered. 

He sat down, propping his elbow on the windowsill. 

He looked up to the sky. He was a bit disappointed when he realized he couldn’t see much of the stars, hidden away by clouds. But he continued to look up, feeling the wind on his hot and cold cheeks. 

He closed his eyes and breathed the air. 

It smelt like rain.

With a smile, Sam felt himself go. 


	2. Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letter.

Benny looked at Dean as he read the letter, hunched over his brother’s body like he was trying to protect him, even in his death. He saw Dean crumbling the letter inside his fist and throwing it on the ground. 

“Dean,” he started to say.

“Not now!” Dean snapped, voice broken. “Please.”

“All right, Dean.”

So Benny left him alone. The hunter didn’t say it, but Benny knew Dean appreciated it. Hours passed while Dean mourned his dead brother. At one point, in the evening, the hunter stood and started to gather all his brother’s things: his clothes, his laptop, his duffel bag, even his gun, everything and anything that Sam owned. 

He put it in the car before coming back inside. Reverently, Dean wrapped Sam from head to toe in the sheet covering the bed. The hunter hauled his brother on his shoulder. Benny wanted to help but Dean stopped him with a glare and passed the door without help

Before following him, curious despite himself, the vampire picked up the letter and slipped it into his coat’s pocket. 

Dean honked and Benny joined him to the informal wake. The hunter drove out of Bobby’s junkyard and into the forest. After a few minutes of driving, Dean seemed satisfied with the clearing he found: it was big enough to welcome them. He watched as Dean built the wooden bed, watched as he hoisted his brother’s body on the bed, watched as he lit the logs with fire. 

Bottle of whisky gripped into one hand, Dean stared relentlessly at the fire. 

“I’m sorry, brother,” Benny said. 

Dean snorted unhappily and drank some whisky. 

Benny chose to let the man alone for the time being, so he went back to car. The letter came back to his mind and he took it out to read it. 

*

_ Dean, _

_ You must be pissed, hurt, and confused. I know you don’t understand, and I know you might never understand why I did it or how.  _

_ The truth is: I can’t live without you. When you disappeared, I lost it. I thought you dead. Then I learned that I could save you, so I did. It’s as simple as that. I did what was right, what was logical. _

_ I’m sure you want more explanations on the how or even the why. Here’s how it went down: there was a deal I could make, my life for yours. I didn’t think twice, I said yes, count me in. I didn’t expect it to work.  _

_ I didn’t also expect Benny to come with you. I’m glad he’s here. He’s gonna help you stay rational, he’s gonna stop you from doing anything stupid.  _

_ Don’t beat yourself up, you couldn’t have stopped it.  _

_ I don’t know where I’m going. Heaven is out of the question, so that leaves Hell, and Purgatory. My odds are not very good on both fronts.  _

_ Jokes aside: please, don’t save me this time. Dean, promise me, promise me that you won’t try to save me. That you won’t try to find out how I saved you.  _

_ Just let me go. It’s time. _

_ One last thing: don’t ever forget that I will always care about you.  _

_ I love you, _

_ Your little brother forever, _

_ Sam.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Only now I realized I forgot to talk about Cas. Oops.


End file.
